…this was a blog about creative play.
I decided to stop being so damn serious all the time and make things–just things, not Art–for the fun of it. I decided to leave this woman behind:
I was going to learn how to have fun, dammit.
I was going to make collages and draw and embroider and write light-hearted things and grow vegetables and finally learn to cook. (yeah, no link for that last one.) I was going to become someone who not only could LOL, but would LOL. Because I was going to lighten the fuck up and find inner peace and just, for once, finally be content, and I was going to get there by walking the path of hands-on creative play.
I got depressed. I tried to hang onto creative play. I tried real hard. I cut myself slack. I took the philosophical view. But then my daughter left for college and a space opened that I realized arts and crafts wasn’t going to fill.
I didn’t know what would fill it–and I still don’t.
Like so many people, I fear we have entered a dark and difficult time. It’s not just about Trump, though. Although he’s a big, fat, huge problem, he’s not really the problem. His election is more symptom than disease. In the midst of fear and sorrow and anxiety over real threats to life as I’ve always known it, I came to realize that for many of us, life as we’ve known it has never been what I thought it was: fair and just. I’m embarrassed and dismayed that it has taken me this long to truly see it, and that it took events of this magnitude to shake me out of complacency.
Gradually, writing this blog has just come to feel more and more irrelevant. And so I’ve pretty much stopped doing that. At least for now.